Yesterday I gave thanks for the fact that it's been at least a little bit fall-like here, after weeks of seemingly summery weather. It's tricky to locate myself in time when the seasons don't seem to be changing around me. Especially for fall, which more than any of the other seasons seems to be all about change. Fall is a transition season; always has been. First day of the new "school year," for one, but also the shifting from summer into winter. Spring is a destination of its own - we spend the winter waiting for its first day, that first flower or first warm morning - but fall is a moving target.
And yet we got here eventually. I've been especially waiting for the trees to change color around here. Not all of them are palm trees here, of course. In fact, Claremont's nickname is the "City of Trees." That made me laugh when I heard it, since I grew up in Boise, which was actually named for its handful of trees that grew oasis-like by the river. It never seemed quite an accurate nickname for Boise, since it felt pretty much like a desert itself. And Claremont doesn't even have a river.
What it does have, however, is people who picture small-town New England in their heads, and are willing to import trees to get it to look that way. So I don't know what it's like outside town boundaries, but here in Claremont, at least, you can see signs of fall.
I tried, with my limited photographic eye, to document a few of those signs. Check out the CST chapel and the Village streets as they change color!